


Atheos's Birthright

by Lyra_Kero



Category: He-Man and the Masters of the Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Everyone's here just not as you remember, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-15 20:10:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12328002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyra_Kero/pseuds/Lyra_Kero
Summary: One thought tormented him as he fought. The thought of failure, failing to avenge the death of his father inflicted upon him by this man. Failing to reclaim Eternia in the name of his kingdom. The kingdom promised to him from birth.------A wip for a much larger revamp of He-Man





	1. Episode One Atheos's Birthright

It was a quiet day. The wind stood still, the crisp air warned of something. It warned of a prickling, violence, waiting to burst. And there it was, the sounds of metal clashing against metal, and war cries echoing over the ancient lands of Eternia. Castle Grayskull just loomed silently in the distance as a young man rode on a black horse leading the massive army to the castle of Eternia. He would not let this petty king stand. No, he’d leave his castle in ruins take by force what was rightfully his. His black cloak hung like a shroud over his broad shoulders he smelled the sulfur of the fires that had been set. The sounds of scorching arrows flying through the air. Their families had been at war for generations. Atheos was determined to end that war as the victor. He hopped off his horse and crept around the warring soldiers, and made his way into the castle, where the king awaited his arrival. As it was the nature of these battles, the king laughing and watching his soldiers for sport rather than risking his life on the battlefield. Atheos would not stand for that. Not while his men died like dogs. It made him sick to his stomach that the king of Eternia would do such a thing. Yet as he snuck through the battlefield he could only feel his heart sink as he saw his own men take blows from the Eternian soldiers.

With each step, he took the cries of the soldiers sent chills down his spine. He gripped his staff and took a deep breath. “Calm yourself Atheos.” And though he shook it was from excitement and a bit of adrenaline. There was some fear but it wasn’t overpowering. He steadied himself trying to gather his bearings before concentrating on his staff. He angled it towards the door and tapped it. The wood splintered and twisted parts of it sparked and snapped. He grimaced as some of the splinters flew towards him but the door slowly split in half, and the smell of old rotted wood wafted through the air. He tucked his staff against his belt and snuck inside, clutching his dagger. Memories of the castle flew through his mind. Mostly bits and pieces of the dungeon he’d clambered out of. The king found it funny to imprison the boy and torture him. He’d make him suffer, make him pay for what he’d done. The blood of the lion would atone for the sins of the lamb. After all didn’t the king have a child? He would spare the whole royal court if he got his revenge on the one who wronged him. He gripped the leather on his knife following the sounds of music. Occasionally he’d slip into a hallway when some guards would pass by. He snuck up on one of the guards throwing his hand across his mouth. “Make one noise and I’ll slit your throat.” He murmured as the guard bit down on his hand. He inhaled through his nose cursing internally at the pain before slitting the guard’s throat. He had second thoughts as the blood began to pool on the floor but he shook his head he needed to keep moving. There was no time to clean this up. No time to mourn what he’d just done. He wiped the blood from his knife on his black robes.

He cleaned the knave's bronze armor before putting it on using the lid of the helmet to cover his face. He’d blend in, oh so, nicely in the armor. He’d sneak up upon the king quietly while he was waltzing in his merry little reverie. Or so he thought. He walked into the room and stood by the door with the rest of the guards. The king danced and laughed with his queen. The sight infuriated him, there was a war going on outside. Bloodshed, and all this bawdy king could do was dance and laugh like there wasn’t a whole army outside risking their lives to protect his realm. His hand rested on his staff his fingers pricking the rough wooden tips. He’d let the king dance a moment longer, let him have his peace before all hell broke loose. And Atheos would make sure that it would be as painful as possible. He drew his staff and held it aloft. The temperature immediately plummeted, he began to chant. Icebound the guards to their spot. While vines grew from the doors tying up the rest of the royal court. It was just him and the king, the king turned around slowly a smirk creeping onto his face. “I thought I recognized that droll chant. Atheos, I was expecting you.” The king said unperturbed by Atheos’s presence. “You will pay for what you’ve done.” He hissed as static filled the air. An orb of green light hissed by his staff, pulsating, the smell of the forest filled the room. “I will reclaim what belongs to me.” Atheos snarled. “Very well Atheos,” The king said drawing his sword. “Just try to take it from me” he said mockingly. The royal court laughed, though bound in vines and ice. And it just fueled his anger; he drew his dagger and charged forward matching the king’s sword blow for blow. Sparks flew and the smell of the forest grew stronger as Atheos dug his knife into the hilt of the king’s sword. The green light orb flew into the leather and the king let go of the sword it clattered to the ground a tree growing in its place. Vines coiled around the room crushing the golden bricks of the castle. One thought tormented him as he fought. The thought of failure, failing to avenge the death of his father inflicted upon him by this man. Failing to reclaim Eternia in the name of his kingdom. The kingdom promised to him from birth.

He was so preoccupied with his spell he didn’t notice when the king’s hands lit up with fire igniting the vines. His cloak caught some of the flames and began to burn. He threw his cloak to the ground but as soon as he turned around his face was met with a flaming punch. He let out a noise as he felt parts of his face sear off all he could hear was the laughter from the king and the feeling of a knife piercing his lower body. He screamed the pain was unbearable. The cruel king tilted his chin with his knife. “How does it feel to be cut down?” He asked he pulled something from his cloak and threw it onto Atheos’s face. Was it, it was oil. The bastard threw oil on the flames. He felt like he was going to pass out from the pain. He clawed at his face trying to quell the flames but it was no use. His head spun, he glared at the king with bleary eyes. The room spun and he collasped. Soldiers were breaking the ice now that it’d melted. They charged for him. Then…Then everything went black. Atheos thought he was dead. Everything was white blindingly white. He sat in the light groaning in pain as he felt his body being moved. He heard some faint voices. Something along the lines of “Throw him..Into..the.Yeah.He.Won’t.Survive.” Then everything went blindingly white again. His head was still spinning. And the white light seemed so comforting so warm. Until he hit a wall walking forward and everything went black again. He saw a cloaked figure clad in black approach him, and it gave him a disapproving look before pointing towards the darkness. He saw a door of light, he walked towards it, holding his face. He stumbled hearing voices, then the quiet lull of the waves before heading into the dark unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work in progress and I'm nitpicky so its subject to change.


	2. Atheos and the Siren

Siren, as he was called by his lovers and his foes, was sitting on some rocks singing as a sailor clambered towards him, enthralled by his song. He smirked continuing to draw the doomed man closer. He grinned once the man was within range and stroked a bit of the sailor’s hair behind his ear. “What brings a cutie like you here?” He teased. The sailor just stared still under his spell, relaxed in his arms and falling prey to his charm. As soon as his crew called out to him, sailor snapped out of it and screamed but it was too late; Siren was already biting into his neck.

“It’s a shame I’m so hungry. Well, for you anyway” He said looking down at the squirming, dying sailor. “At least you’ll make a nice meal.” He continued to devour the man, sinking his sharp teeth into the coarse flesh as the body stilled. Blood trickled down his body as he continued to eat.When he was finished he tossed the carcass in the sea, looking up to the sky before diving into the water. Smoke was billowing from the mainland and that was worth investigating. His cerulean scales glimmered in the sunlight as he swam towards some jutted rocks to get a better view of the smoke. He wondered where the others like him were at, usually more than one would take down a ship but today it’d seemed like they’d be scattered. It was more common for them to hunt in a pack, though Siren preferred to hunt alone which the others found odd, so he seldom spoke with them unless something of major importance was going on. He did have a way with words, or so he thought that, but despite how full of himself he was; and my god was he full of himself; they actually did listen to him in times of crisis.

Though something felt off today, normally the others would be a few feet away from him. Today he couldn’t see any of them. He sat on the rock bank carefully lifting his tail onto the sharp, rough rocks watching as the scales began to shed, bit by bit revealing human legs. The scales rang against the ground like little bells and shimmered in the sunlight. He wriggled his toes shaking some stray scales off, before attempting to stand up cursing at how hard the rocks were, cursing as he stumbled, but caught himself. He was going to feel that in the tip of his tail when he got back in the water, no doubt about it. His feet ached against the hard rocks. There was a small cove at the end of the bed of rocks where he usually kept a few trinkets. Mostly some clothing he’d gotten from his victims, which would be useful for blending in for a few hours with the menfolk.

He wanted to know what was going on, and more often than not his curiosity got the better of him. He put on a pair of brown slacks and a sort of tight fitting cotton shirt he’d gotten off some old pirate captain. He ran his fingers through his blonde hair and was ready to go out the cave. He was kind of mad that he hadn’t found any shoes his size; it made walking on the rocks unbearable. Why did sailors have such small feet? It didn’t make any sense to Siren. He shrugged and grumbled, walking across the rocks. He looked back realizing that he’d forgotten the rowboat he had tucked in the back, but as he turned to go back to the cove he saw something floating on the horizon of the ocean. He griped about it but pulled his pants off and dived into the water. As soon as his skin hit the water, scales began to grow on his legs and his feet became a tail. He left the shirt on there was no point in taking that off and swam towards the object. Maybe it was a piece of driftwood he could fashion into an oar for his rowboat. But the closer he got the clearer it became that it was a person and not an object. Damn. He just wanted another oar.

He grabbed whoever it was by the arm and dragged them to the coves shore. Whoever they were they were out cold and muttering in their sleep, their face was covered with some odd white garment. He sat on the edge of the cove shore dipping his tail in the water. Occasionally he’d look over at the human, or what he assumed to be a human and pressed his head against their chest to make sure there was anything, breathing, a heartbeat. There it was, slowly but surely there was a thadump. A heartbeat well whoever they were they were lucky to be alive, for however long they had left. Maybe they just needed a bit of rest. Siren observed them a bit more closely, leaning in to look at the blood that had begun to pool on the rocks. Gross. There wasn’t much he could do for that... Wait didn’t he have some form of gauze in the cove? He pulled himself onto the shore with a grunt and waited for his legs to form before standing up and bitching about the rocks, but who could blame him, those rocks fucking sucked.

He pulled on some pants and walked into the cove searching for the gauze. He found it and knelt over the person before flipping them over to inspect the wound. The gash was very deep. Gauze definitely wasn’t going to help but it was better than nothing; and better than throwing an ass ton of salt water into it. He wrapped the gauze around the persons wound. He looked at the smoke billowing from the mountains and pouted. He couldn’t go see the source of the fire now, he had to take care of someone. Well he could have left him for dead but for some reason, for the first time in a long time he felt compassionate. And it was a rare for him to feel this way, to have some compassion. He equated it to the fact that the person in question was injured and if he’d been injured he’d want someone to take care of him. That’s all this was it was nothing else just doing someone a favor in the hopes that if he ever got hurt someone would do the same for him. That was it there was no real compassion involved, just an ulterior motive. Or so he thought, but deep down he knew he was lying to himself.

The worst part about taking care of the person wasn’t that they murmured in their passed out state, it was the flies that kept trying to feast on his flesh. The best Siren could do was occasionally swat them away with his hand when they landed. The flesh by the gash had yellowed some parts of it were purple, and he didn’t want to have to dig maggots out of an open wound. It’s why he was so neat with disposing carcasses; he hated flies. Or more specifically their offspring. He’d make sure that the carcasses sank to the bottom of the sea before swimming off. Maggots made his skin crawl, he could feel it in his bones and the feeling made him squirm. He hoisted the person’s body onto his shoulder and moved him into the cave to shield him from the intense sunlight and the flies. He knew moving him probably only agitated the gash, which it did. He could feel goosebumps crawl over his skin as he felt the warm blood seep into his shirt. Gross. He set him down gently on some torn sails and changed the gauze on his wounds. There really wasn’t anything to do but wait.

Ahh, I’m so stupid! He thought as he face palmed. How could he have forgotten something so obvious? He reached for a jar of water and dipped his hand inside, his other removing the gauze. He dipped the bloodied gauze into the water soaking it thoroughly before lifting it out of the water and pressed it into the wound murmuring a few words and focused his aura. The smell of a summer breeze filled the cove as a green light enveloped the gash, soft and warm. The gash closed up a bit and scabbed over and the bleeding had stopped but it was still deep. He could tell that much.

Siren had done all he could. He didn’t know how to mend something that scarred that deeply. “Hey dead weight can you hear me?” Nothing. “I’m going to take the silence as a no but I’m going to talk anyway to fill the silence.” He said poking at the cloth that covered the persons face. He leaned his head against the persons shoulder; he could hear a faster pulse a steady bump bump bump. Coma or not the person was at least alive and out cold. “So at least you’re alive that’s cool I guess. Better than sitting around with a dead body. I’d rather sit around with nobody heh. Sorry that joke was bad.” He said as he watched the sunset on the horizon. He just kind of sat there doodling into a soggy leather bound book while the moon rose into the sky. It wasn’t like he had much else to do or could do much else with the person. He lit a lamp and propped the person up against some rocks trying to make them more comfortable before pulling a bit of the sail over them like a cover. He laid down on the sail next to the person and leaned over to put out the lamp before drifting to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been pretty busy but here you go another chapter. -Throws confetti-

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work in progress descriptions and other things that I'm nitpicky about are subject to change.


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